Page 106 of Deep Tide

Adrenaline spurred him into action. Technically, he needed only one phone. These devices shared a platform, so infecting one would eventually infect all. But Sean grabbed three, just for good measure, and stuffed them into his front pockets, then quickly closed the suitcase. Glancing around warily, he spread the ice around and lowered the lid. Seconds later, he was out of there, jogging stealthily down the dock and dashing onto the neighboring pier. The door to the corrugated metal building stood ajar. Sean slipped inside and found a man in yellow waders sitting on a stool, watching him from the shadows.

“Anyone see you?” the undercover agent asked.

“Don’t think so.”

He jerked his head toward the back. “They’re ready for you.”

Sean strode past a row of empty bins that would be full of ice and fresh-caught seafood by eight a.m. He passed a tank of live bait and opened the door to a walk-in refrigerator.

He stepped inside, blinking at the glare of a mobile spotlight. Two men in waders rushed forward. They wore matching black skull caps and latex gloves.

“You got them?” Hahn asked him.

Sean smirked at the top technician on his team. With his thick glasses and pasty skin, he didn’t look much like a commercial fisherman.

Sean pulled the phones from his pockets. “I got three.”

“Three? Beautiful.”

Hahn pulled up his face mask as the other man rolled a cart over. An array of tools had been arranged atop the cart on a blue napkin.

“You guys look like you’re ready for surgery,” Sean said.

“We are.”

They bent over the phones, already taking them apart with tiny tools.

“I’ll wait outside.”

Hahn grunted.

Sean stepped out of the fridge into the room with the concrete floor. The place smelled of fish and bleach, and someone had recently hosed everything down, from the looks of it. The agent who was on lookout beside the door stepped over, cigarette in hand. He squinted at Sean in the dimness as he took a drag.

“How long?” he asked.

“Three to four minutes,” Sean said. It was an estimate based on practice. “Maybe six. I brought them an extra device.”

The agent nodded and flicked an ash toward the drain in the middle of the floor. Sean glanced at the door the man was supposed to be guarding.

“Any more vehicles?” Sean asked.

“Not yet. They’ll be here soon, though. They’re not going to leave that shit sitting around for long.”

Sean stepped to the window, which was covered by a thick layer of brine. He could barely see anything.

“There’s a crack in the wall,” the agent said, walking across the room to a place where the metal siding had come apart. From there, Sean could see the parking lot and the bow of the shrimp boat. Sean scanned the area, his stomach churning as he thought of what he still had left to do.

The door to the fridge opened, and Hahn jerked his head at him. “We’re almost done,” he said through the mask.

Sean rushed over. “That was fast.”

“We’ve been practicing.” Hahn handed him two of the phones. Sean slid them into his pockets as the other technician reassembled the third phone.

“Here.” He lunged over and handed it to Sean.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Good luck.”

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